


Cookies and Muffins

by thebigbengal



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: 14 and 15 here, Abusive Parents, And a Hug, F/F, Gen, Girls Being Girls, One-Sided Attraction, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Pre-Canon, audrey needs more friends, ben horne being a prick, references to the Philadelphia Story, somewhere in that ballpark, the girls are like, they all need hugs and each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-02 15:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15799149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebigbengal/pseuds/thebigbengal
Summary: Audrey's spent most of her life listening from behind closed doors. This one night, she opens them.





	Cookies and Muffins

**Author's Note:**

> For Wellick on Tumblr as part of CountdowntoTwinPeaks' WonderfulxStrange exchange! I hope you like this!!

It was of Audrey Horne’s belief that whatever she wanted she’d get, one way or another. There were lots of things on that list, but sleepovers somehow managed to make their way to it, despite her eye rolling reaction to every girl gossiping about how much fun they’ll have at their house with their friends. “Fun” obviously meaning getting dirt on classmates, comparing lipstick colors, and fawning over boys that will never notice them. It wasn’t until the thought had crossed her mind, late one night, that she might be the only girl in her class that never had a sleepover. Or was invited to one.

There were multiple steps to be taken here, carefully and precisely. First, find an opening that wouldn’t coincide with any of Mom or Daddy’s dinner parties, or Dr. Jacoby’s visits, or Uncle Jerry’s “fun times” with any tall and curved lady he had his arm wrapped around, which would make for quite a task. She finally found one, a Wednesday. Probably not best to pick a school night, but Mom had scheduled a trip to Seattle, taking Johnny with her, and Daddy and Uncle Jerry said they had “matters to attend to” up North. Audrey arranged in advance for a chauffeur to drop her and her guests off at school the next morning.

Then, there was convincing Mom and Daddy of this plan. Audrey never had any intention of letting them in on this, but Johnny must have blurted out “Sleepover,” at some point. She found it hilarious how those two have the same emotional investment in their daughter as a toaster, but the second she wants to have fun in _her own home_ , suddenly eyebrows are raised.

“Audrey, dear, since when have you ever cared about sleepovers?”

“Since when has she ever had friends to invite to one?” Her father chuckled through his cigar.

Audrey’s nails dug into her palm, “I have friends, Daddy. Plenty. You just haven’t met them.”

“Oh, I’m sure I haven’t.” Smoke plumed from his lips and up into the ceiling fan. Her mother grimaced at the sent, and waved her hand in front of her face.

“It’s only going to be a few of us.” Audrey implored, “Not a big thing, because I know you won’t be here. Wouldn't want to bring down the entire Great Northern, right?”

“You’re _damn_ right. And you better invite Laura! That girl does a lot for this family.”

“Of course, Daddy.”

_Of course._

It’s not like Audrey _wasn’t_ going to invite Laura. Her name was already on her mind. It’s that it was on her _father’s_ mind that bothered her. And everyone else’s.

Audrey wrote out the invitations in her nicest penmanship, on her prettiest stationary. Red ink on pink polka dotted bordered letters, then slipped inside dark red envelopes, and pinched closed with a tiny rose sticker. For added “importance and secrecy,” a large, black, block-lettered “CONFIDENTIAL” on the bottom of each envelope.

Audrey’s specialty - presentation. She’d gained plenty of experience in that department when Daddy needed her to “be useful for once,” and pen down the same “You are cordially invited to-” etcetera, etcetera, because what else did she have to fill her time with?

The first name she’d written out, in black ink, was Donna Hayward, whom she spoke the most to, but in hindsight, that’s not a whole lot to begin with. A sweet girl, soft-spoken and soft-minded.

The second went to Shelly McCauley, an older girl Audrey was somewhat fascinated by. Shelly was just as social as Audrey and came from a smaller home, with a mother that barely makes herself known to anyone in town. Any chance Audrey had to learn more of a mystery was taken without thought.

Which brought her to Laura, the biggest mystery in her life, for as much as it frustrated and excited her. Audrey prided herself on a nose for reading people - and a set of secret hideaways in her home to eavesdrop. Laura was careful during her visits to Johnny not to say too much, but enough could still be figured out about her. Enough for Audrey to grin at the thought of catching her in the act. Or joining her…

She wrote her name out more slow and delicate than the other two, and a touch more slant for flavor.

 

* * *

 

The invitations were sent out accordingly, and each girl arrived accordingly.

Donna was first, punctual as the clock hands themselves, “Hi, Audrey! My mom made cookies!” She held out a patterned box topped with a small bow.

“Oh, cool! Come in, you can just drop everything by the stairs.”

Donna hopped in and waved goodbye to her parents, who were still sitting in their station wagon out front. She slowly took in the Horne Estate portion of the hotel. Every wall built from fine wood, Native American art pieces placed throughout the halls and rooms, large windows hidden by red drapes, and an incredible stone fireplace, blazing like a dwarf star. Audrey watched Donna twirl about and gaze at the photos on the walls and side tables, working her way around the living room. “Is this Johnny?

“No. My dad.”

“What about this one?”

“My uncle.”

“Are all of these of your dad?”

“That one’s my grandpa.”

Donna turned back to Audrey, “Are there any of you?”

“You wanna watch TV or what?” Audrey grabbed the remote off the leather couch and flicked to a random channel. A Paris dog show. She sat down on the farthest end of the long couch, while Donna slowly walked over and awkwardly placed herself on the other end.

“Laura should be coming soon, I think.”

“How’d you know she was invited?”

“I mean… we’re friends. I told her that I was invited, and she told me.”

“Oh.” Audrey deflated at the failure of her "confidential" warnings. 

“Should I not have told her?” Donna nervously asked.

Almost on cue, Audrey popped up at the doorbell. Shelly McCauley, tall, wavy haired and covering her waitress uniform with an oversized cardigan, stood like she was a couple sizes smaller than she really was. She folded her arms tighter into her sides and grinned bright, “Hey, um, is it okay if I park over there? In that lot? It won’t get me towed or anything, right?”

Audrey eagerly looked over to the sectioned-off lot for private visitors, finding a Chevy that has long past seen better days. “You have your own car!?” Audrey excitedly asked Shelly, startling her with the joy in her voice.

“Uh, its my mom’s.”

“You’ve got your license though?”

“... Yeah.”

Audrey grinned and moved aside for the older girl. Shelly carefully stepped into the house and placed a small, blue duffle bag right by Donna’s things. “Hi, Shelly!” Donna greeted.

“Hi.” She said, fixing her cardigan and walking around the couch. “Sorry I’m so late. Norma ended my shift early, but some joker decided to drive an infinity less than the speed limit.”

“Probably my dad. I think it’s a doctor thing, like bad handwriting.” Donna laughed.

“Yeah,” Shelly plopped beside Donna, “Whatchya watchin’?”

“Just whatever’s on, I guess. Is it okay if I change it, Audrey?”

“Oh, sure.” Audrey said, still standing by the door and her eyes out the window. Laura never seemed like the kind of girl to be last to anything. This disappointed Audrey a tad, but got her stuck thinking what would make her so late.

“Are we waiting for someone else?” Asked Shelly.

“Just Laura.”

“Laura’s coming?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay…” The room fell to an unprecedented quiet as Donna flicked through static and foreign soap operas, the clicks of the remote growing louder the longer they sat. Shelly slipped off her cardigan and walked over to her duffel bag, unzipped it, and pulled out a long skirt and sweater.

“Do you know where the bathroom is?” Shelly asked Audrey.

“Down the hall to the right. Last door.”

“Thank you.”

Donna stopped clicking at the first sight of the “Shocking Days in Marble Heights” title card. She snatched up the cookie box, dropped to her knees, and sat attentively within the TV’s view. Audrey rolled her eyes and stretched out over the couch.

“You watch this?”

“Not really. My mom leaves it on while she’s cooking, and I just like to listen. You?”

“Mother Horne loves her drama. I prefer the real stuff.”

“Hm, yeah.” Chuckled Donna. She pulled the ribbon off the box and tossed the lid aside. “You want one?”

“What kind are they?”

“All sorts! Chocolate chip, double chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, oatmeal apple, chocolate and walnut, macadamia-”

“I’m good.”

Donna popped a chocolate chip cookie in her mouth, “Suit yourself.”

Shelly returned to the living room, refreshed from finally escaping her uniform. She ran a brush down her long, auburn hair, and sat in her previous spot, where her cardigan lied. Audrey curled up sharply, watching Shelly, then glanced back over at door.

Donna held out the box to Shelly, “You want one?”

“Depends. What you got?”

“Chocolate chip, double chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, oatmeal apple, chocolate and walnut-”

“Is that peanut butter?”

“No, that’s macadamia.”

“You sure? It looks like peanut butter.”

“I mean…” Donna shrugged, “It could be…”

Shelly stared at the box and shook her head. “No thanks.” She flipped her hair to the side and swept through again with her brush. “Which episode is this?

“Uuuummm… not sure. Not that it matters though, right?”

“Yeah! Norma doesn’t watch it, but Heidi eats this up like candy. And I hear Mrs. Hurley go on and on like no tomorrow.”

“You know they’re making a spin off? About Chet?”

“He was in only one episode wasn’t he?”

“Uh huh, but apparently there's more to him!”

Audrey blanked out on the ensuing conversation, staring down the door like a piece of meat. A tinge of panic arose at the thought of Laura turning down the invite. They barely talk. What reason would Laura have to go see Audrey other than because of Johnny? And Daddy.

Audrey would bet money that her father knew what Laura’s middle name and birthday was before his own daughter’s. She began to regret even sending the invite in the first place.

The door answered with a small knock. Like a call to arms, Audrey dashed from the couch and to the threshold, nearly slipping on the fine wood floors. Laura Palmer, wrapped tight in a long, blue coat, smiled tensely, “God, I’m so sorry. My schedule got caught up.”

“It’s okay,” Audrey reassured her, “We weren’t gonna start the party without you.”

“Oh, thanks. Hey Donna.”

“Hey, Laura!” Donna spoke through a mouthful of cookies.

Laura waved lightly at Shelly, who shrank into the leather couch, but waved back. Laura turned around to send away her mother, then took her grey messenger bag from over her shoulder and instinctively headed into the direction of the bathroom, as if she lived in the house, herself. “I’m just gonna change for a second. If that’s alright. My clothes got pretty soaked from a puddle.”

“Go right ahead.”

Audrey’s heart did a little dance in her chest. Laura was here, and not for Johnny, or Daddy, but for her. She felt like she’d captured a prized salmon, one like those old geezers in the big rubber boots like to gloat about.

Shelly scrunched up into the couch corner, eyes trapped on the small screen. Donna laid down onto her front, legs swaying casually in the air, and pulled another cookie from the box. Despite Audrey’s delight, the rest of the room fell strangely calm. Laura walked back out and quickly stuffed her discarded clothes into her bag. She wore a red polka-dotted sweater, and a pleated black skirt.

“I like your outfit.” Complimented Audrey.

“Thank you.” Replied Laura.

“Can I ask what held you up? Not a big deal or anything-”

Laura walked up to Donna, leaned down, and pecked her cheek, something Audrey was a bit surprised by. Laura gently sat down between Shelly and Audrey, legs and arms tightly squeezed into her space.

“Late night Meals on Wheels deliveries.”

Shelly turned to her, “I didn’t know we did those.”

Laura smiled, “Some guys ask for that sort of thing. I pick up from another restaurant. Marty’s. Not too far from here.”

Audrey heard a hint of “stretched-truth” and marveled at her smooth response, but neither she or Shelly pressed further.

Laura spotted the cookie box on the floor. “Eileen made more of her famous batches?” She asked with a wide grin.

“Oh, yeah!” Donna slid the box over, “Dig in! She made your favorite!”

Laura plucked three macadamia cookies and shoveled them all past her dark red lips. “Taste like peanut butter.”

“So they _are_ peanut butter!” Shouted Shelly.

“Are they? … Wait…” Donna tore off a piece of the peanut butter. “No, that is macadamia. That’s your favorite.”

“No, it isn’t Donna. It’s almond. These are almond cookies.”

The three girls gawked at Laura. A fed-up and curious Audrey grabbed an “almond” cookie and licked it, “I think she’s right. But still very… peanut-y.”

“C’mon, no they aren’t.”

Laura chewed down another. “Almond.” She said dully, and let the others have at it.

Each girl snagged a cookie and declared their findings, back and forth, until the entire macadamia/peanut butter/almond section of the box was cleared. Shelly proclaimed on her life that there was only peanut butter, while Donna frustratingly searched for a macadamia nut, and Audrey struggled to find that taste of almond. All they managed to settle on was that they couldn’t stuff their faces anymore.

 

* * *

 

Donna laid on her back, sprawled out like a starfish. Shelly nibbled on a double chocolate, Audrey on a walnut chocolate, and Laura finished off both types of oatmeal cookies and the chocolate chip. They gazed at the show like goldfish, comfortable in their spots and hardly caring for the troubles of Jennifer Woodley and her spicy love affair with Timothy Jones, DA of Marble Heights, who is also in a spicy love affair with his fiance’s mother.

“Boys. They’ll screw anything, won’t they?” Piped up Shelly.

Audrey lingered on her words. Laura laughed hard. “If they have the screwdriver to do it.”

Shelly glared at Laura, knowingly. Laura still stared ahead at the screen, her socked feet gently nudging Donna’s, who’d appeared to have tuned them all out. Audrey eyed the two girls on the couch. They spoke of experience. Audrey barely had a real relationship in the years since she’s shared a school yard with boys. Sure, she’s had “boyfriends,” children that held hands and picked flowers together, and professed a desire to get married when they were grown up, until the day ended and they forgot about each other. Mom used to joke that "commitment was never a family trait." Used to...

Jocks would wolf whistle at her in later years, self-proclaimed bad boys asking for numbers, and while the attention made her feel bigger, stronger, and wanted, she knew it was for only that one thing. The one thing she’d hear Daddy talk about to his business colleagues through the walls.

_“You’re daughter is quite the vixen, Mr. Horne.”_

_“She gets it from her mother.”_ He says with venom on his tongue.

Audrey curled up inside of herself like an armadillo, pushing into her end of the couch so as to not invade Laura’s space. She noticed this. “Do you need me to move over?”

“No,” Audrey replies, “I’m fine.”

“Alright.”

The show’s choppy dialogue coupled with dramatic organ music lumbered on in redundancy. Audrey had to ask if this was the same episode as before.

“It’s not… I think.” Donna answered.

“Just like real life, huh?” Asked Laura.

“Like every day at the diner.” Said Shelly.

“Like every day in class.” Said Audrey.

The girls all giggled. Some held their stomachs to settle the cookies still sitting in there.

Audrey began to relax her position, slowly sliding her legs down the seat cushion. “Sorry. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all.” Laura lifted Audrey’s legs onto her lap, “Do you?”

Audrey skipped a beat. The sudden shock of those borders crashing away would have sent her to the other side of the room, but she stayed still. Laura never furrowed a brow or tilted her head in a sarcastic nature. She seemed genuine in her actions. Audrey slacked, “Not at all…”

Donna turned toward the two of them, then gave her attention back to the screen.

Apparently, the channel’s schedule was nothing but a Marble Heights marathon. Episodes passed by with a new shocking twist that was promptly reversed, and then redone just a few episodes later. Not a single line of dialogue or character moment stuck in any of the girls’ memories, as faces slowly faded into one another, and fatigue took its toll. Donna was practically comatose, stomach full of cookies and balled up on the hardwood floor and under a woolen blanket that Audrey tossed over her. Shelly scooted over to the recliner chair and promptly passed out. Audrey’s legs were still over Laura’s lap, so she resisted sleep for as long as she could. Laura looked more alert than ever. Dark circles formed under her eyes, but no sign of exhaustion was apparent in her behavior. Suddenly, she turned to Audrey.

“I think I should call my mom up. Maybe to take me home.”

Audrey sat up, concerned, “What, why?”

“Because I shouldn’t be here.”

Audrey pulled her legs down and sat level with Laura. “Why not? I sent you the invite.”

“Audrey,” Laura bit her lip, “Did Johnny ask you to invite me? Did your dad?”

Audrey didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t all his doing.

_“And who was that blonde girl in the other room with your son?”_

_“Oh, that’s Laura Palmer. My attorney’s daughter. Very bright girl. Positively lovely.”_

She tried to throw that out of her mind. It was _her_ that wanted Laura to come here. **Her**. So why was Laura only asking about them? Why is it so hard for her to believe that there were no strings attached, just a want to actually _know_ the girl that was such a persistent word in everyone’s mouth?

But can't as close as she is with Donna. Or in on some secret, like with Shelly.

Audrey pounded her fist on the leather cushion, “He did ask, but I was already thinking about asking you! It was already my idea!”

Laura stared at her, empathetically. She sighed, and Audrey tensed in wait of a response. “Did you invite everyone else here just to make things less awkward?” She tried to say in a joking manner, but it only made Audrey more upset. She wrung her hands and crossed her arms, looking for an honest answer.

“I just wanted to have some fun.” Audrey’s gaze avoided Laura’s. She anticipated a cold, “You wasted my time,” or something in the same vein, Laura grabbing her things and slamming the door shut. Instead a warm hand met her knee, bringing her to look up into Laura’s solid, blue eyes, partially covered by her long, blonde bangs. Her lips were unbelievably close. The glitter of the red gloss was plain in view, and Audrey could almost sniff the strawberry flavoring. If her hands weren’t tangled in her sleeves, she’d cross her fingers for Laura to pull in just a touch closer.

“Audrey,” Laura said playfully, “You wanna know a secret?”

“... Yes.” Audrey replied.

“I lied about the almond. That was definitely peanut butter.”

Audrey blinked in confusion. She leaned back and saw Laura’s cheeks puff up in a struggle to hold back the laughter. Shelly and Donna then snapped awake at the sound of Audrey loudly cackling in delight, before rolling off the couch and landing on Donna.

 

* * *

 

The girls properly readied themselves for bed. Audrey teased Donna’s pink and yellow flower pattern nightgown, and Donna tugged on each unnecessary bow and sequin on Audrey’s dress.

“You look like a kindergartner!”

“ _You_ look like a craft store threw up on you!”

The ensuing pillow fight lasted for about ten minutes, before knocking over a lamp, three antique photos, a ceramic Native American figurine, and Shelly’s book from her hand.

“Did we break anything?”

“Tragically, no.” And the fight continued, now with the addition of Shelly and her height advantage, and unnaturally powerful swinging arm.

Laura came out from the bathroom much later, dressed down into a long, thin black night dress.

“Whose funeral are you going to?”

“Outcome pending.” Laura tossed a throw pillow to Shelly. “You wanna go out back and…” She pressed two fingers to her lips and pretended to blow smoke.

“Uh, sure.” Shelly turned to Audrey and Donna, “We’ll just be a minute.”

“Okay then.”

Shelly pulled out a small hand bag from her duffel, and followed Laura out the back door down the hall. Audrey and Donna watched them leave while sitting criss-crossed on the blankets and pillows they pulled from Audrey’s room, and laid out on the floor. The TV was changed to another station showing an old movie with Katharine Hepburn. All the lights were switched off, except for a table lamp. Audrey moved closer to Donna, back resting on the couch.

“You know what that was all about?”

“I think they smoke.”

“They smoke!?” Audrey shouted.

“I mean, everyone does it. She doesn’t like me watching her, though.” Donna said, quietly. “And I bet Shelly’s mom just lets her do whatever she wants. Lucky…”

“Isn’t your dad a doctor?”

“Yeah. He’s not a fan either, but…” Donna shrugged, “I don’t think he could ever say no to Laura.”

“Yeah…” Audrey watched Katharine Hepburn waltz around in her high waisted pants with all the confidence of a Roman emperor, and remembered Laura gripping her knee. She pictured a cigarette hugged between Laura's rosy lips, taking patient drags, then flicking away the ashes with her long, white fingers. Smoke rising past her round face, feathery lashes, and into the dark sky above her.

She wondered how Laura would feel if she went outside to join her and Shelly. Audrey had never puffed on a cigarette before in her life. Her father and uncle gave a less than stellar first impression, but Laura might be worth the lingering smell and burned throats.

Audrey turned to Donna and saw her beaming similarly at the bold Ms. Hepburn, even when sharing a room with Carrie Grant and Jimmy Stewart. She giggled, “Donna can I ask you a question?”

“Sure thing, Audrey.”

“Do you,” She fidgeted in her spot, “Think Laura is pretty?”

“You kidding!?” Donna lit up, “She’s gorgeous! Sometimes I just hate her for it!” She joked, “She’s got this wonderful smile… You know?”

“Yeah,” Audrey said, smirking, “I know.”

“And Shelly’s so beautiful. Surprised she doesn’t have a boyfriend, yet.” Donna glowed “You’re lovely, too, Audrey!”

Audrey turned a bright shade of red, trying to hide her glee behind a pillow. She returned the compliment, “Donna, you’re a gift.” The two snuggled closer and continued to watch the comedic antics of Tracy Lord’s love life. The back door swung open and shut, Shelly and Laura’s footsteps into the living room shortly following. Shelly put back her bag, and rolled herself up into the layers of blankets, her mop-like hair sticking out above the pillows. Laura shuffled through her own bag, sifting around and sticking her face into something that made her sniffle. She closed it back up, walked in front of the couch, and got cozy between Audrey and Donna.

Audrey felt strangely out of place in that moment, thinking this would be a scene she’d observe through her peephole in the wall, but never participate in. The odd feeling grew in size, pulling her out of her own body, and hovering above the four of them. She saw Shelly bundled up beside Donna, who leaned on Laura, who leaned on Audrey, who was stunned by the proximity of Laura’s head, wedged into the crook of her neck. Audrey wondered if Laura was too tired to care about this level of intimacy, or if this sort of thing was normal among girls and Audrey was the black sheep of the bunch. She happily accepted it though, relaxing herself and letting her dark hair fall over Laura’s blonde waves. Donna dozed, sinking into Laura like a pillow. Shelly squeezed in closer to Donna, heat falling over all four of them at once. Audrey had long doused out the fireplace, and now it was like the flame still breathed throughout the room.

Audrey briefly pulled away to turn off the remaining lamp, then returned to Laura’s touch. She dreaded waking up the next morning, separating from Laura and her secrets. This may be the closest she’ll ever get, but the want for more would never leave. She slouched down, Donna and Laura following suit. The movie played softly in the darkness of the room.

“Audrey?” Laura whispered sleepily, “This house is safe, right?”

“Of course.”

“Good… Thank you for this.”

“Yeah, Thank you, Audrey.” Yawned Donna.

“Thank you.” Muttered Shelly through the blankets.

“You guys are welcome.” Audrey slid deeper into her blankets, and Laura beside her, noses just barely coming into contact.

“Laura.” Said Audrey.

“Mm hmm?”

“You smell like peanut butter.”

“Almond.” Laura answered. And like a cast spell, they drifted off.


End file.
